


la vie en rose

by hwiijjung



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Character Death, Depression, I wrote this in class, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, and sad, its also pretty gay, what am I doing with my life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 14:06:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16286015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwiijjung/pseuds/hwiijjung
Summary: matthew williams is alone with his self-doubt and toxic thoughts in a sea of white noise.arthur kirkland drowns his sorrows in music and tries to forget but just can't help but remember.francis bonnefoy can only see his broken heart and wisps of smoke.





	la vie en rose

"Sorry! I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to..." I apologized profusely, not being able to meet their gaze. I could feel a sharp pang in my forehead, and almost immediately my eyes started to well up with slight tears. My glasses had been pushed painfully against the bridge of my nose at the sudden impact and I stared down at the pavement as a clawing sensation overwhelmed my throat. I could feel my cheeks burn in mortification. My heart beat accelerated, the familiar feeling of dread and anxiety creeping in.  
I am not going to cry... Ugh, damn it. How the hell did I manage to pull off this stupid stunt? Why does something always have to go wrong every single day of my pathetic, miserable life?  
I blinked rapidly, attempting to rid the tears from my eyes but alas, success did not prevail. I managed to catch a glimpse of the unfortunate guy--girl? Nope, guy--I stupidly bumped into, because I am so stupidly stupid, his unreadable expression causing my stomach to do back flips.  
He had rich sapphire eyes, aegean and sky blue flecks twinkling in the sunlight in an enchanting sort of way.  
He didn't seem mad.  
But he didn't seem too happy either.  
He held a cigarette loosely in one hand, the wisps of smoke dissipating into the cold, crisp, fall air.  
The stranger looked down, a bit startled by the blonde who suddenly bumped into him.  
"Oh, uh, don't worry about it. Are you alright?"  
He noticed the glisten in my eyes and a flash of guilt could be seen in his face.  
I blinked rapidly again.  
"Y-yeah,"I croaked. Why am I such an idiot?  
Riveting blues enlarged in realization.  
"Oh! You must be Arthur's younger brother. Matthew, correct?"  
He had a distinct french accent. His voice was gentle and concerned. Musical and rumbly, with husky undertones. Simply enthralling.  
I cleared my throat before replying briefly,"Yep, that's me."  
I studied his clear cut features. He had tired, soft eyes and a stubble to accompany his sharp jawline. When I realized he noticed what I was doing, my gaze darted away from his promptly. I could feel my cheeks heat up, palms sweating and clammy with anxiety so vexatious it made me sick; as the cherry on top.  
Oh, maple hockey. He probably thinks I'm some thirsty wacko.  
"Visiting hours are almost over, mon ami. However, I can assure you Arthur is going to be okay,"he informed reassuringly. A stray thought crossed my mind. What if he was perhaps trying to convince himself? What if Arthur really wasn't okay?  
I shook away the thoughts. No, he was fine.  
My newfound acquaintance's eyes were distant and clouded in thoughtfulness and discontent. I wonder if I had made him uncomfortable. I should probably leave. Yep. Gotta skedaddle. He's just wants me to go, chances are.  
"Okay-um... Which way is the hospital entrance?" I asked dumbly, my body turning opposite of him.  
"Double doors on the left. Just turn the corner and go straight,"he replied, offering a polite smile. His eyes were still sad. It made me feel sad. He seemed broken. Like me. If only I could fix him.  
"Thank you."  
I gave a small wave of farewell before I proceeded towards the direction he gesture for me to go. I glanced back at him and I saw that he was taking another hit of his cigarette, his features fraught as the pernicious smoke billowed in increasingly long spirals and rings, eventually tapering away.  
After entering, the hospital, I walked a few steps before slapping my palm to my forehead in embarrassment.  
Jesus Christ, that was so awkward. Who was that guy anyway? What was I so damn nervous? He was kinda hot.  
Wait, what?  
"Stupid, stupid, stupid..." I chanted to myself, hands combing my locks back in frustration and shame.  
Bad Matthew! You literally just met him.  
Ugh, I need aspirin... Seriously.  
"I've lost my marbles,"I sang as I reached the front desk.  
The desk lady gave a sweet smile.  
"Hiya! How can I help you?"  
"Um... Are visiting hours still open? I need to visit my brother Arthur,"I asked softly, fidgeting with my fingers nervously. "Kirkland,"I added in haste.  
"You're in luck! You've still got 30 minutes left. Arthur should be... On the 2nd floor! First door to the right,"she chirped, her eyes warm.  
"Thank you."  
I left in a brisk manner, anxiety increasing in greater heights with each step I took. The stairs were carpeted, maroon and dull cobalt in square patterns.  
The off-white walls were adorned with bright, neon paintings; hints of gold and silver to compliment the abstract animals residing in them. Three paintings in total, I counted. One a rooster, one a robin, and one a jay.  
Memories flooded my head as I was lost in the artwork, a bittersweet pang in my heart. I remembered lying on my stomach in our brother's living room, pointing at funny birds from the encyclopedia Antonio bought for us to share.  
July 3rd. The day we invited your friends to a shared birthday party for you and I every year because it was one of the days that was in between our real birthdays. Mine July 1st, and yours July 4th. You insisted the day be closer to your birthday. You weren't big on reading books but you just wanted to hang out to make me happy. I remember.  
And I almost wished I didn't.  
-  
"Matthew, that one kinda looks like you! It's got weird hair."  
"Hey! You're one to talk! That one definitely looks like you! Because it's got a big head!"  
He stuck his tongue out and grinned.  
"Because I'm so smart."  
I giggled in disbelief, darting out to tickle his left side. He gave a raucous laugh.  
"Hey!" he protested breathily, still laughing from my attack.  
-  
I chuckled emptily, only realizing now that my cheeks were wet. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching and wiped my eyes quickly.  
I'm so pathetic. Oh, God.  
Faint murmuring echoed through the hospital halls, though it seems vacant to me. I could hear a soft tune playing from the first door on the right, the quality slightly inconsistent but still melodious and tender in singing.  
It was beautiful.  
"Quand il me prend dans ses bras  
Qu'il me parle tout bas  
Je vois la vie en rose  
Il me dit des mots d'amour  
Des mots de tous le jours  
Et ça m'fait quelque chose..."  
My ears strained to hear more of the sweet melody, but it was interrupted by sudden static-y audio. I stared at the door to Arthur's room, unsure if I should knock or let myself in.  
I didn't want to accidentally wake him up. What if he was sleeping? But I didn't want to be rude.  
I knocked softly and hesitantly twice.  
"Arthur?" I murmured, waiting anxiously for a response. A muffled sigh could be heard from the other side of the door and the rustles and shuffling of sheets followed.  
"Come in,"he answered, sounding tired and almost emotionless.  
I hesitated to enter, apprehensive of the state of his physical condition. Was he hurt badly? Is he depressed? What if I do something wrong? Everything I do is wrong anyway. I joked to myself darkly.  
I took a deep breath and opened the door gently.  
The room was dark and the only light source was streamed through transparent curtains, giving a melancholy vibe to it. The walls were a pasty white and I could hear the loud, sharp beeps of the heart monitor.  
Arthur was perched up on his bed, a cassette player laying on his lap. Arthur glanced up and made quick work of placing the cassette player daintily onto the bedside table.  
His head looked like it suffered severe trauma, as it had thick bandages wrapped around it. A back brace peeked out from under the blankets, hinting that he had fractured his spine. And it wasn't just physical injuries.  
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that he was hurting on the inside too. He did this to himself. But I didn't want to believe it.  
It scared me.  
Arthur made eye contact with me, attempting to straighten his sitting position. I could tell he was uncomfortable though. He tried to give a polite smile, placing his hands in his lap and lacing his fingers together. It looked too unauthentic. It just wasn't right.  
None of this was. Arthur shouldn't be in the hospital and he... he shouldn't be gone.  
Arthur's fake smile faltered for a second and he finally spoke.  
"Matthew?" he greeted. Sorta. It sounded like he was trying to guess my name, or like he didn't expect me to visit.  
"Arthur..." I said weakly, not being able to say more, without having a mental breakdown. It hurt so badly to see him like this. When I saw his broken arm I felt bile rise in my throat.  
If I had been there, if I wasn't so selfish, if I had been so brave enough to just comfort him... This wouldn't have happened.  
I can't lose him too.  
All of this is my fault.  
"Please don't cry. It really isn't that bad,"Arthur reassured me weakly, his voice gentle and cracked. "The doctor said that my arm's only got a week and a half and it's all healed."  
Tears slid down my cheeks but I quickly wiped them away with my sleeve. God, I fucking hate myself. I hate how I just can't stop crying like a fucking baby, how I just can't be strong in the slightest. Arthur needs me to be strong for him and I'm just here being a sad excuse for a brother. A human being.  
It should've been me that died instead.  
I wiped my eyes again and sniffled.  
"Arthur... If I had just been there for you... And helped you this w-wouldn't have happened,"I told him in a wobbly whisper, sniffling in between words. My voice was watery and sore, voice cracking after the first sentence. My throat burned and my nose was runny.  
I must look so disgusting right now.  
"Oh, dear, please... Please don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault, really. I'm fine,"Arthur pleaded, sounding quite distraught and uncomfortable. His thick eyebrows were knit together, but then his frown was soon replaced by a weak smile. "I'm fine."  
But he didn't sound fine. I knew he really wasn't. Arthur was hurting and broken and it's all my fault. Why was he pretending? Why did he do it? Why?  
I could barely breathe. My heart was pounding at a million miles per hour and it hurt to talk or cry. My breathing quickened and my hands went numb.  
"Matthew? Are you alright?"  
I wasn't alright. Arthur wasn't going to be alright. It all hurts too much. The pain of loss, the pain of seeing him suffer, and the pain of knowing everything is different now. Nothing will get better.  
He'll never come back.  
I don't want to feel anxious anymore.  
I don't want to live anymore, because there's no point in being in agony for the hope of getting better when you just won't.  
"Yeah, I'm okay,"I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. It was still wobbly and tearful.  
But Arthur didn't look convinced. He rose up to grab a water bottle sitting on the mahogany bedside table. Then he proceeded to hold the bottle in front of me, offering it with an expectant and pleading look in his eyes.  
"Here."  
I didn't deserve it.  
"N-no thanks. You need it more than I do,"I declined insistently, pushing the water bottle towards him. I coughed awkwardly, face red in embarrassment from my melodramatic mental breakdown. "Seriously, I'm okay. Sorry I... I'm being stupid,"I said weakly, laughing for no reason.  
I tried to calm myself by taking deep breaths but my hands were still numb and I couldn't stop fidgeting with my fingers. My heart wanted to leap out of my chest.  
I wish I could just disappear.  
There was a sort of long, awkward pause as Arthur waited patiently for me to calm down, his viridian eyes filled with concern and his forehead was creased.  
I exhaled.  
"You're alright,"he told me softly, patting my shoulder.  
Another silence followed.  
Arthur cleared his throat.  
"It's been a while since we've spoken, hasn't it?" he said, smiling gently.  
I wiped my eyes again, returning the smile weakly and nodding.  
"Yeah,"I forced out.  
"How's the weather up in Ottawa?" Arthur, asked, his hands falling to his sides.  
"Cold,"I replied, chuckling. "I went hiking and saw a glimpse of a bear stealing some food off of a picnic table,"I said, recalling the memory fondly. Arthur laughed along with me.  
"I'm sure Alfred would've loved to see that. Do you remember when he befriended a whale?" Arthur mused, his eyes bright.  
I winced, surprised when he mentioned his name. Too soon. It was way too soon... for me at least. It hurt to know that he was now just a memory to reminisce.  
I would never hear his voice, hear his loud laughter, see his wide smile, hear him rant about Ivan, or argue with him about pancakes and waffles ever again. I would never play hockey with him. We would never play catch again, or Super Smash Bros. with him.  
Ever again.  
All because of one stupid incident.  
Arthur seemed to notice the shift in the atmosphere, frowning when my eyes grew wet and shiny again and my shoulders slumped.  
I breathed shakily, swallowing the pain in my throat and using all my will to hold back tears. "What's the matter?" he asked, growing concerned again.  
I couldn't reply right away. I feared that I would cry and he'd hear the agony in my voice. The weakness. The sadness.  
It hurt so God, damn, much.  
I made an awkward motion of pretending to cough when really I was wiping my eyes.  
Arthur just waited.  
"Y-yeah. He would've loved it. I wish we could have gone together,"I finally said.  
"Alfred's come back from Russia by now, I'm sure. He's flying to Virginia, right? Didn't he say that he was going to pay you a visit sooner or later?" Arthur went on, and I winced again, frowning.  
What the fuck?  
"Arthur,"I said slowly, slightly unsure. Was he trying to pretend like it never happened? Was he in denial, even? Did he honestly forget?  
He met my gaze, discomfort evident in his facial features.  
"...Yes?"  
I swallowed, breathing deeply.  
Here goes nothing.  
"Alfred passed away in a plane crash last year."

**Author's Note:**

> so.. uh.. yeah. its kinda trash so sorry about that. i'm working on making my dialogue more interesting, but for now its gonna be a bit boring. :P


End file.
